none of them had a family in years

So my grandmother and I went into town today to hit up the Walmart for corn meal. She warned me that a lot of brands mix a little wheat flour in, so we’d have to check the ingredients. Since Deacon doesn’t have any experience with corn meal, I figured I’d give him a little test and have him check the bags before we looked at the ingredients. He alerted to every bag on the shelf.

My grandmother thought this was the Best. Thing. Ever. She was so delighted to have him alert and then she’d look at the bag and say “yes! he’s right! check the next one!” (video is him checking the second to last one on the shelf). Because of this we gathered quite a crowd of spectators, one of which was a store employee, who ran a few aisles over and brought back a bag of gluten-free cornbread muffin mix for him to check. He said it was safe, at which point everyone watching collectively lost their shit. You would have thought we’d just won the Stanley cup. Strangers were hugging. It was unreal.

So afterward I held an impromptu Q&A session since none of them had ever seen a service dog before, and then a police officer who was watching told me all about the Malinois their force had, and even got choked up talking about the dog’s passing last year.

Since getting home, my grandmother has proudly told this story to every single person that called the house this afternoon (she’s a very popular lady), whether it be family members, quilting friends, or the preacher, one of which responded, delighted, that her daughter had already heard the story from her husband who was doing the grocery shopping that morning.

Small town life, ya’ll.

Welcome Home

Request: “Hi! I love your stories so much! I don’t know if you do these but is there anyway you can do a story with Bill Skarsgard and the reader having their first child. Like them finding out their having a baby and watching the pregnancy develop and finally they get to meet the baby when it’s born?”

Pairing: Bill Skarsgard x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: YASS I finally finished with all of the 20+ requests I had in my inbox, it took a week but that’s an ACHIEVEMENT I’M SO PROUD of myself😂😎

You and Bill had been together for 4 years before he finally decided to pop the question. You, your friends, and your family were very happy for you. They all loved Bill and since he made you happy they were happy. Six months after Bill proposed you both got married in front of all your closest family members and friends. It was an amazing wedding and you looked very beautiful with your white big wedding dress.

Bill thought you looked like a princess straight out of a fairytale. He even cried as you walked down the aisle with your father on your right side. Bill couldn’t contain his happiness and excitement, he was very emotional. After 4 years he finally was going to marry you. The love of his life, his entire world and many other more beautiful things. 

Once the wedding was over you went to Paris for your honeymoon where you both made love to each other and conceived your first child. A couple of weeks passed and you both were finally back at home in your beautiful mansion. You had been feeling nauseous and couldn’t keep your food in your stomach.

Worried, Bill went to the doctor with you where you both received the news that you were expecting a baby! Bill obviously not being able to contain his excitement spun you around in front of the doctor. The doctor being fan of both of you thought it was very cute and considered you a very lucky women to have such a supportive and loving husband. 

Once you got home Bill started ordering baby furniture and clothes. You giggled at how you had only been a couple of weeks pregnant. You still had 9 more months to go until the baby arrived. Bill just shook his head and kissed you only replying, “It is never too early to start preparing.”

After that Bill called all of his friends and family telling them about the amazing news. He was literally jumping and spinning around the house as he spoke on the phone this man was more then excited.

Time had passed and you were now 8 months pregnant. You had been surprised with a baby shower that had been planned by you and Bill’s family members and friends. You all spent an amazing time and were given A LOT of gifts enough to last you all until the baby went to school.

A little bit more time passed and finally you were 9 months pregnant. The journey had been amazing. Bill was an amazing husband he was always caring for you whether it was tying your shoes, picking up something you dropped or satisfying your cravings he was there to make sure you were happy. 

“There’s my beautiful wife.” Bill smiled as he walked up to you and kissed your lips.

“Hey handsome your son is abusing his mom, he keeps kicking me.” You frowned.

“Little one you better stop kicking your mommy, she’s made a lovely home for you these past 9 months the least you can do is not kick her.” Bill said as he pressed his ear onto your stomach and spoke to your son.

Soon after Bill finished speaking the kicking stopped causing Bill to smile.

“Holy shit you’re amazing how on earth?” You asked in disbelief.

“It’s official I’m the baby whisperer.” Bill said bowing causing you to giggle.

All of a sudden you felt a warm liquid run down your leg your eyes widened to the size of saucers causing Bill to become worried.

“Y/N what’s wrong are you okay?” He asked.

“Bill my water broke the baby is coming.” You smiled. Bill kissed you passionately before helping you out of the chair.

“Alright I have the bag and I’ve got you let’s go to the hospital and have us a baby.” 

“We’re having a baby Bill he’s finally here.” 


After a couple of hours dealing with contractions and pushing out your baby. You had finally given birth. Bill had been there for you the whole time from the moment the doctors injected the epidural into up until now that he sat next to you as he carried your son (S/N= Son’s name).

“Welcome to the world S/N your mommy and I are very happy that you’re here. She’s asleep right now but once she wakes up she will also be very happy to see you.” Bill whispered to your son as he held his father’s finger with his tiny hand.

“We’re all going to be very happy together and maybe once a couple of months pass you could eventually see yourself becoming a big brother.” Bill cooed.

“Don’t get your hopes up mister after what I just went through we’re waiting a year until that happens.” You said drowsily as you woke up.

Bill chuckled a placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Is that?-”

“Yes honey meet S/N he’s been waiting to meet you.” Bill smiled as he handed you your son.

“He is so precious just look at him, look at what we made.” You cooed as a couple of tears slid down your face.

“He really is, we made something absolutely beautiful. Thank you so much Y/N you have made me the happiest man on this earth. I love you and S/N so much and I will always be there for you both.” Bill said as he held your hand.

“Bill that’s so sweet, I love you too baby and you as well have made me and happiest and luckiest woman on this earth.” 

Bill crashed your lips together and they moved in perfect sync. A couple of doctors that passed by outside your hospital room smiled to themselves. They were more then happy to see a beautiful couple starting their new life together. 

Debt

Imirrim-Chæma-Thiridion had answered a distress call. It had probably been stupid on xir part, but what was done was done.

A small ship, even smaller than xir, had crashed on a barren but breathable-to-most-species moon in the system of Hyaldnar. Xe had been making a delivery for xir mentor when xir communication system picked it up, and since xe was barely past adolescence, the journey of not even five rotations was making xem bored and seeing a crash site would be exciting. After all, it was probably an automated distress call, nothing could survive a crash to a rocky moon.

But there xe was, standing in front of a crumpled and burned wreck and the very much alive creature that had crawled out of it after perceiving xir pod landing. Imirrim cursed xir rotten luck, now xe would have to help the poor thing. Xe had been planning on just sight-seeing the wreck a bit, maybe later contact whatever species it had belonged to to tell it had crashed, if only to look good in front of xir mentor.

After a while of the creature gawking and baring it’s teeth at Imirrim, xe recognized the species as human, the fifth longest living space-faring species. Still, xe belonged to the second longest living, and Thalmors like xemself could outlive five humans each born at the moment of the previous one’s death. What had especially stuck from xir exobiology and alien anthropology lessons was humans’ way of expressing their emotions in strange and backwards ways, and their sheer capability to holding grudges. Great.

Imirrim approached the human slowly. It was approaching xem right back, still showing it’s teeth like it was attacking, but but humans expressed their emotions backwards, so that was good, right? Besides, the human was wounded and limping, and xe could outrun it if things went bad.

“Finally someone answered my call,” the human -a male, xe guessed- said as Imirrim was close enough. “I’ve been here for a week and I’m running out of water.”

A week? How was he alive?

“Oh, where are my manners,” the human said and extended the less damaged of its upper limbs towards Imirrim. “I’m Thomas Warren, from the human colony on Clyzma Al Carrim, farmer by profession.”

Imirrim carefully extended a cheliped to mimic the greeting, and did xir best not to flinch when the human grabbed it and shook it. “I am Imirrim-Chæma-Thiridion from planet Skismin, apprentice to the Grand Navigator.”

“It is very nice to meet you,” Thomas said and shook xir cheliped some more before finally letting go. “You mind taking me off this rock?”

Imirrim shifted xir weight from a foot to another to a third. “Sure.”

“Great!” Thomas said and pulled his lips even further back, revealing even more teeth, more than could possibly fit comfortably into a mouth that small. “I’ll be right back.” He limped back into the small shipwreck.

Imirrim was regretting this. It wasn’t customary to help strangers, especially from other species, since there was no telling what they could do. Humans had a reputation of being unpredictable, especially when wounded. And this ‘Thomas’ was covered in wounds, some looking much too severe for anyone to possibly survive.

Thomas emerged from his wreckage, carrying something that was clearly important if he was willing to retrieve it from a wreck while severely wounded. “So, Imirrim, was it? Where are you headed?”

Imirrim led the human to xir pod and helped him climb over the threshold. “Back to Skismin. You can get better help there.” If he stayed alive that long.

“Lovely, you’re a real life saver,” Thomas chuckled. “I’ll owe you one.”

To Imirrim’s surprise -and relief- Thomas did not die during the two rotations’ travel back to Skismin. He talked xir auditory membrane off and after a while filled the pod with the faint stench of alien blood, but all things considered he wasn’t the worst passenger. Once xe had docked the pod back on Skismin and had helped Thomas and his bag of belongings (which turned out to be an assortment of small possibly decorative items, data storage devices, clothes, and even a few ordinary rocks one could get anywhere but that were apparently ‘cool’) to the nearest emergency clinic, Thomas turned to xem one last time.

“If you ever find yourself in a bad spot, call me,” he said with a serious expression xe had come to recognize during their time at the small pod. “I owe you my life, just call and I’ll pay you back.”

Imirrim stared after him for a long while before turning away and heading to tell the Grand Navigator that hir delivery was received and thanked for, and to tell xir mentor about human Thomas Warren.

After xe had told hir what had passed, Imirrim asked one last question. “Master, what does it mean when a human says they 'owe their life’ to someone?”

The Grand Navigator’s age-reddened crest rose curiously. “Like you probably know, humans are known for holding grudges and for being almost insensibly loyal. While they keep in mind all wrong that has been done to them, they do not forget a good deed done to them either. 'Owing one’s life’ means you have done something to them that they regard highly of, usually the saving of a life, and that they will do anything in their power to, as they say, 'return the favor’. Did this Thomas say this to you?”

Imirrim nodded. “Right before he went with the medical staff, he said he owes me his life, and all I need to do in a time of distress is to call him and he will come.”

The Grand Navigator raised hir upper chelipeds in a sign of pride. “You have done well, my apprentice. To earn a human’s favor is a feat of great bravery and compassion. One day, you shall become a fine and daring Navigator, like the explorers before us.”

Imirrim ruffled his crest at the praise. Maybe answering the distress call wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Time went by, and Imirrim progressed from an appearance to a novice and on, up the ranks, and eventually landed a spot as the head Navigator on the long trade ship Pochella, traveling at high speeds through barely charted nebulas and dangerous asteroid fields. Xe plotted courses through the densest of rock fogs and past dangerous gravitational pulls, and not once did his calculations for the course fail.

Xe had lived many more cycles, many more than a human could ever live. Imirrim had counted- xe had kept a distant eye on Thomas Warren in case xe would ever have a need for the favor he had claimed to owe xem, but the need never came. He had died fifty-seven cycles after xe had rescued him, or seventy-two years, as humans counted time, and even more time had passed after that.

Still, even after all this time xe looked back at him for courage when daily life was hard and xir spirit was down. Xe had met and worked with humans many times now and they all shared the same spirit Thomas Warren had had, but none of them had left quite the same impression on xem as Thomas, who had smiled and joked through nine rotations on broken bones and told fondly of his family and farm back on Clyzma Al Carrim.

Imirrim had plotted a course through a particularly dense asteroid cloud, a course that would save the ship a lot of time and fuel. The ship was nearly out of the cloud when the proximity alarm went off and something clamped into the ship’s hull. The computer showed xir an approximate hologram of the something. It was a smaller and armed ship attaching itself to their ship.

The Cieruna members of the crew -small, short-lived, and feathery things with nimble hands and a sensitivity to electromagnetic fields- were screaming in terror. Pirates, they yelled, we can’t shake them off, we’re all going to die. Shush, xe said, we will not die. I’ll call for help, be quiet.

Imirrim galloped to the unoccupied communication post and sent a distress message on all frequencies. “This is Imirrim-Chæma-Thiridion, head navigator of the trade ship Pochella. We are inside the Halfway asteroid cloud. And we are under attack by pirates. Please help us.” Once the message was sent xe stepped away from the console and joined the crew in listening to the magnetic creaking of their hull in the morbid silence that had followed xir call.

The ship could not move, following the already plotted course with the extra weight and bulk of the pirate ship attached to them would be suicide, and finding a new safe route out without knowing the exact dimensions of the other ship was impossible, not to mention useless against the threat. All xe could do was hope for a miracle.

And a miracle xe got. Another proximity alarm sounded, and the computer showed an image of a charging mining pod, ten times smaller than the pirate ship and at least a hundred times smaller than Pochella. Outmatched, outgunned, it rammed the pirate ship and despite being hit by their lasers and missiles, it kept on pounding it with its grappling arms and mining lasers and asteroid bombs, everything it had. And finally, when the pod was leaking air and plasma and fuel into space, the pirate ship released its hold and retreated, engines sputtering and its hull dented and battered, and flew away from Pochella and the mad mining pod to safety of the asteroids.

“What was that? What happened? The Cieruna chirred and cheeped. “It is gone! We are saved!”

Imirrim was still looking at the hologram screen. The mining pod was all but destroyed in the short but fierce fight. Someone exited it, wearing a spacesuit and carrying something, and the pod engaged it’s barely functional engines and sped away leaving a trail of debris and smoke in its wake, until it finally exploded from the damage it had sustained a safe distance away.

Imirrim stared at the hologram for a moment, and shifted xir weight from a foot to another to a third. Xe input a code to the control panel and opened a small airlock near the creature that had saved them all. Xe set off from the bridge where xe was posted and galloped through corridors and climbed down stairs, until xe arrived in front of the airlock that had already closed and the creature that had successfully boarded the ship.

“Are you Imirrim-Chæma-Thiridion?” The creature asked. Xe nodded, all the while looking the spacesuited being up and down. Four limbs, two for walking and two for holding. No tail, short neck but a neck nonetheless. No added room for fins or spikes or crests. It was a human.

The human handed their possession to xem -a lumpy bag that both felt and looked like it had rocks in it- and pulled off their helmet.

The human was ruffled and grizzled and had spark burns on his face and his eyes were serious, but he was baring his teeth in a joyous smile. He extended a hand to greet xem and Imirrim took hold of it and shook it.

“I am Stepa Warren,” the human introduced himself. “You rescued my grandfather from a shipwreck when he was young. He spoke fondly of you til his dying day. It is an honor to meet you.”

Katie’s Graduation Present

Katie’s Graduation Present | Phil Lester has missed the majority of his daughter’s high school years because he’s spent the last four years in the military. When Dan finds out he’s going to miss her graduation, too, he throws a fit, and doesn’t even say “I love you,” before hanging up on him. So who’s the military guy in blue at the bottom of the bleachers? | Phan | Teen and Up | Reunion fic, light angst, happy ending, Parent phan | 1,849 Words

Disclaimer: In no way do I pretend that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil.

I may have spent a good portion of the morning watching military reunion videos and I cried so hard I wrote a fic with my tears.

(Ao3)

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Writing Romantic Relationships

(Even when you have little experience to go off of.)

@dominiquefourie asked:

So I’m writing a story (as I’m sure most of us are) and while it’s not a romance story there is a strong relationship thread that’s needed to pull the story forward, only thing is, I’ve never strictly been in a relationship - tv/books have shown me what relationships looks like, but how can I write about one without knowing what it feels like?? Thanks

Hey, Dominique! I have to admit upfront, I’ve never ‘strictly’ been in a relationship either. But neither have I fought in a war, or raised a kid, or held clandestine negotiations with rebels, or built a brace for a paralyzed merperson, or ridden a dragon, or experienced the death of a best friend. 

Lucky for us, the same techniques which help us understand and write a variety of things we’ve never experienced before will generally work for romance as well:

  • Research. A good old internet search can be a great substitute for experience, especially if you’re dedicated to finding good sources.
  • Relate. Think of similar actions, emotions, and situations which you have experienced, and draw from those. Even if it’s not the exact circumstance you’re writing, there is always overlap.
  • Pseudo-Experience. Your imagination, combined with the human capacity for empathy, can give a lot more insight then you might think. It’s still not the real thing, but after you’ve done the research, the final step is to put yourself in the person’s shoes, at least in your mind. 

You should certainly do your own digging into romance and relationships, but here are a few pointers to start with…

Five tips on writing romantic couples:

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Coffeeshop Gothic
  • The customer asks for a latte. You make it and hand it off. The customer comes back and says, “I wanted this iced.” You remake the drink and hand it off again. The customer comes back and says, “I wanted this hot.”
  • The customer asks for a shot. A shot of what? You don’t know. They won’t tell you.
  • You work at a Starbucks. A man comes in asking for a triple shot venti latte with six pumps of vanilla and two scones. “I need you to ring each ingredient up separately,” he says. “I need my points,” he says. “They have my family.”
  • A new song comes on the radio. It sounds the same as the last song.
  • A group of teenage friends come in, all shouting their orders at the same time. Every order requires you to use the blender. They want to pay separately. Two of them want you to write something with the caramel drizzle on top of their whipped cream. None of them tip.
  • The fresh pot of drip coffee has been dripping since before your shift started.
  • “Do you have soy milk?” You haven’t had soy milk for three years. “Do you have soy milk?” You ran out and management never replaced the stock. “Do you have soy milk?” You’ve given up saying no. No one ever listens.
  • Your shift began at six in the morning. Your last shift ended at five-thirty, half an hour ago. When was the last time you left this coffee shop?
  • You look at the clock, it’s 12:37. You make forty-three drinks and put a new batch of scones in the oven. You look at the clock again. It’s 12:38.
  • You’ve heard about “break.” Those who take it are oblivious to the horde of people screaming for a drink. Someone has thrown up in the middle of the floor. The drive-thru line is up to twenty-three cars. Those who are on break see none of this. You know they will never hear your cries for help.
  • You’ve seen the outside world through the windows of the shop. It is a bright place. Thousands of people pass by your shop every day. They cannot know the horrors within.
The Color Red - Steve Rogers x Reader - Soulmate!AU

Originally posted by ohevansmycaptain

Summary: Everyone is born colorblind, that meaning you live a black and white life. The main 6 colors in a persons life are the classics. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple. Each time you live a significant moment of your life, a new color comes into play.

Red: Your Soulmate
Orange: Worst Enemy
Yellow: First Heartbreak
Green: Biggest Role-Model
Blue- Best Friend
Purple: Self-Acceptance

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Warning: Brock Rumlow is his typical asshole self in this one-shot, otherwise I think it’s fine besides cursing and such.

A/N: Requests are open and I absolutely am open to anything! I love speaking to you guys and receiving any type of feed back so please don’t hesitate to send an ask, message or comment (:

« New Updated Masterlist (with future works!!) »

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Things We Wish We Could Change

Originally posted by jaded4fox

Request:  Hi could I request a batsis story? She is Bruce’s biological child but she didn’t become a vigilante so they tend to ignore her (not on purpose but they’re always busy with a case). She goes away for university and when none of them show up to her graduation she decides to cut ties with them.  After a few years (maybe 3 or 4) she gets married to a wealthy businessman and they had a kid(s) together. The batfam didn’t realize that she cut ties with them because of all their cases they thought that she was still at school, when they realize that they haven’t seen her in a while they try to find her. The end is up to you.

Pairing:  Batfam x reader, Ryan(oc)x reader

Summary: You are the forgot Wayne. Forgotten not on my by the public but your own family as well. If you aren’t worth remembering to them then they aren’t worth it to you.

Words Count: 2,750 My longest fic to date!

Genre: Angst

Notes:  So I’ve seen a few fics with a request a lot like this, so if this fic is too much like a fic you have written please tell me and I will take it down. I don’t want to take any credit away from any other amazing author.

The reader in this is a little older than Jason

~REQUESTS ARE OPEN~



“Alfred, when will daddy be home?” 5 year old you asks as the old butler tucks you into your bed.

Alfred’s face falls a bit, but it doesn’t last as he saves face and gives you a reassuring smile.

“You must be mistaken, your father is home mistress (y/n).”

“Then why don’t I see him ever? Why doesn’t he tell me goodnight?” you ask curiously. Back then you were just innocent and naive, you didn’t know why your father was never around, why you weren’t aloud to go into his library, what the big bangs coming from below the house were. You couldn’t explain to your teachers why you never saw your daddy for more than an hour a week if you were lucky or why your butler came to your open houses not your father.  You couldn’t explain why the other boy that lived in the house treated you like you had the black plague.

You see Alfred become physically defeated, “I’m sorry mistress, there are some things even this wise old man doesn’t know.”

You are let down by the answer but you didn’t let Alfred see it.

“It’s OK Alife! no one could know everything” you stress in your little childlike way.

Alfred smiles, “Goodnight (y/n).”

“Goodnight!”

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dazzle me. ((jondami))

i was listening to this song and a idea came to mind. ‘’you’re getting higher than the ceiling lights, and falling hard, hard enough to lose the fight. not in it for the money, just in it for the thrill.’’ -dazzle, oh wonder. 2.7K+ words.

   Damian’s fascinated, utterly hypnotized.

And it’s all the fault of one special Kryptonian.

He doesn’t do love, what’s the point? It makes you weak. Gives people a way to get right through your armor and shatter you in a way that nothing else does. His mother explained that to him many a time. He had listened to her stories as a child.

There was someone once, someone that she had truly loved. Ra had found out. He killed them right in front of her. She vowed never to love again. It was foolishness. 

Damian learned from her mistake just like she wanted him to.

‘‘You will never let yourself sink as low as petty humans. You, my son, deserve a god for you will be one someday with this mighty empire of ours.’’ She spoke, it was a miracle she was giving him the slightest of affection, running her nimble fingers through his hair. For a moment, he believed that he saw love in her eyes. Then she steeled, abruptly standing up from her seat beside him. ‘’We need to cut your hair at once.’’

And that was that.

He never loved, scoffed at admirers, pretended to retch at the romantic scenes in the movies Dick was so fond of watching. Poked fun at the silly novels he occasionally caught Jon reading.

Then puberty happened.

Hormones, hormones, hormones.

He was laying back on his bed. Titans Tower was completely deserted. Everyone hadn’t yet come back from the holiday break. Not that he blamed them. The ones who didn’t have family simply stayed with another of the teens. 

Damian had come back as soon as the clock struck midnight, announcing the presence of the new year. 

He stared at the ceiling, trying to count exactly how many bumps were on the roof of his room. The Titans had repainted his room, which had been a chipped, bloody mess. He was grateful, but none of them had any futures in designing rooms or anything of the sort. Some paint was layered, to cover the dark crimson stains, and you could tell the difference right away.

He said nothing.

He was restless. He couldn’t get to sleep, no matter which way he turned, or punched his pillow. He tried sleeping on his stomach, but that was just uncomfortable in so many ways. Plus, he didn’t feel like getting accidentally turned on which was happening quite frequently nowadays.

‘‘It’s perfectly normal-’‘ Dick crooned. ‘‘Another word and I will smother you in your sleep.’‘ Damian interrupted.

Robin sighed. It was so quiet without any members of his team. Usually there was at least one insomniac hanging out in the living room, watching some sort of program on the TV, which Damian could hear from his bedroom.

Not today. 

A ear-piercing sound rang in the air.

He shot up in bed, blindly going for his suit, pulling it on in record breaking time.

Adjusting the mask as he went, he ran out to the living room.

‘INTRUDER ALERT’ flashed across the screen and the wail continued.

What, the Tower was impossible to break into. He had been making sure of it. Great, now he had to say that the Tower was nearly impossible to break into. 

Goddammit.

He started pressing buttons to at least stop the sound so he could figure out where the hell this intruder was, so he could beat the living hell out of them. He was a bit antsy.

Then, the alarm stopped.

He glanced down at the electronic keyboard and found that he hadn’t pressed enter yet. 

Damian froze.

‘‘Sorry ‘bout that, I slipped up on the last number in the code.’‘ A voice came from behind him. A laugh as well, a low one that managed to make his heart beat the slightest bit faster. Not that he would ever acknowledge it.

Damian tucked away the batarang that had been taken out in the blink of an eye. 

He turned around, seeing Superboy vault over the couch. 

Jon placed his feet over the top of the couch as his head hung off the couch, strands of hair coming loose with gravity and framing his oh so perfect blue eyes and delicate, dull pink lips. Ones that were forming a word.

–you’ve got diamonds in your eyes tonight–

‘‘-me.’‘ Jon was smiling at him, it sent an unfamiliar warmth through him and he had to fight back a shiver. 

Pathetic.

‘‘Huh?’‘ Had he really been so distracted by the boy hanging upside down?

No. Yes. 

‘‘Nothing,’‘ Jon laughed. ‘‘What’s up?’‘

The question snapped the youngest Wayne out of his daze and back to his senses.

‘‘What’s up?’’ Damian mocked. ‘’How the heck did you manage to get into my secure building? Why are you here? What is the meaning of this?’’

‘‘Pretty sure that it doesn’t belong to you and one question at a time, please.’‘ A lopsided grin. 

He hid his reaction to it, waving his hand so the keyboard disappeared, leaving the coffee table just that. A plain table.

‘‘Okay, then answer them.’‘

‘‘Someone’s grouchy. Ooh, an apple.’‘ Jon sat up, grabbing the fruit from the bowl placed there. He made a face after biting into it. ‘‘Ours are better.’‘ He gingerly set it down on the table.

Damian rolled his eyes. ‘’I’m waiting, Kent.’’

‘‘Really, Wayne?’’ 

Nope. He noped everything. This was karma, had to be.

He watched in silence as Jon lent forward, placing his somehow soft fingers on the side of his face, it was unusual and it took him off guard. His own hands were rough from years of handling his equipment. Little cuts littered them. Permanent.

Breath hitched in his throat.

Why was he reacting like this?

Then, Jon’s fingers brushed higher up and they pulled at his mask, successfully removing it. He pulled back, casually dropping the thing in his lap.

‘‘There, so much better.’‘ The shaggy haired teen smoothed out the creases in the mask.

Damian let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

‘‘So, now to answer your many questions.’‘ Jon waved his hands around in a flourish and Damian found himself staring at their every twitch.

Huh, he has really pretty hands. 

He found himself wanting to get into contact with them once again. 

‘‘Kon gave me the code by the way, so don’t worry. Your security is still perfectly intact.’‘

‘‘Of course it is, I built it.’‘ The vigilante responded with a huff.

Jon tilted his head back in a laugh, and Damian should have found that offensive but he was trapped. 

Enthralled by the way Jon’s eyes shut when he did so, a sense of disappointment stirring in Damian when he could no longer view the wonderful shade of blue, lips curling upwards, collarbones just about showing from the top of his hoodie that wasn’t zipped all the way to the top, and it being yanked up a bit when he brought up a hand to muffle a laugh, exposing some of the beautiful pale skin right underneath his navel.

–dazzle me, dazzle me–

Whatever deity existed, they were torturing him. 

The one across from him took a moment to calm, taking a deep breath in and then out.

‘‘I’m-,’‘ Superman’s son snickered again, ‘‘fine.’‘ He waved his hand in dismissal of the laugh that had just occurred. ‘‘Listen, I was in the area, and Kon told me you were hanging around here alone. Thought I would keep you company.’‘ There was a pause. 

Damian didn’t know why but his heart pounded with fear, drowning out any other noise.

‘‘…And maybe we could talk about what happened at my party?’‘

And there it was.

‘‘Damian, c’mon,’‘ Jon whined, bringing a smile to Damian’s lips. ‘‘It’s my fifteenth, we’re here to have fun. Not lurk in a corner and be depressing.’‘

‘‘It’s what I do best.’‘ He replied, and full lips formed into a adorable pout.

He didn’t like parties, and Clark and Bruce, God knows how those two conspired to do this, had thrown the biggest one ever. They had left once it started, trusting the boys to not let anything get too out of hand.

‘‘Well, we’re dancing.’‘ Jon spoke, a certainty in his voice.

–give me neon lights–

‘‘No way.’‘ He scoffed, settling in on the couch.

‘‘It’s my birthday, I get exactly what I want.’‘

Damian didn’t understand why that sentence affected him so much.

He let Jon pull him up, dragging him into the fray.

Swarms of warm, teen bodies. They didn’t know half these people but it didn’t matter right now. The smell of sweat, and excitement buzzing in the air like electricity, his veins absorbing it.

–see the plastic life through my bloodshot eyes–

They fumbled, awkwardly stepping, not really knowing what to do but that made it better. 

–you’re getting higher than the ceiling lights– 

Jon kept getting closer and closer.

He didn’t notice.

–and falling hard, hard enough to lose the fight–

They stepped on each other’s toes a couple of times.

Jon was swaying, and was humming along to the beat with his eyes shut. 

‘‘Having fun there?’‘

Red colored the boy’s cheeks, as if he’d been caught.

A blush (?) 

He stuck out his tongue at Damian, childish.

They broke out laughing.

Quiet.

‘‘You’re looking at me like that again.’‘ Blue eyes, narrowed. Calculating.

‘‘Like what?’‘ The Arabian male said, confused. 

‘‘I dunno, It’s just-’‘ Jon shook his head. ‘‘I should shut up.’‘

‘‘No, really. Like what?’‘

Raven hair fell into his eyes as Jon stared down at his worn out sneakers.

He mumbled something, but Damian didn’t catch it with how loud the conversations around them were.

A fist gripped his shirt, balling it up. Damian thought that Jon was going to punch him for a second and he went to remove the hand.

Jon was faster.

A rough tug to the front of his shirt, and lukewarm lips crashed against his slightly chapped ones.

–not in it for the money, just in it for the thrill–

A weird sounding noise escaped his mouth, and the grip on his shirt loosened but the hand remained there, pressing against his chest.

The other was brought up, skimming the back of his neck.

–living in the moment, paying for the kill–

His eyes fluttered closed, body relaxing in way he didn’t know was possible.

Damian had no idea how to respond so he just did. No thinking.

Hands on Jon’s waist, fingers curling into the belt loops on his jeans, tugging.

More, more, more.

Him, him, him.

Invading his thoughts, poisoning his mind until there was nothing else.

–i am wild alive, i am wild alive–

His head started to feel dizzy, and with irony he remembered, ‘I need air,’ and pulled back, although Jon was hesitant to let him go, and gave a whimper.

They stared at each other, eyes going wide as if only now realizing what they had just done.

‘‘Oh my God, I’m-’‘ Jon began but Damian’s mouth was already back on his, muting any further words.

–golden grill of sadness, mid-life wasted youth–

The rest of the night was a blur.

They broke apart, snuck away from the crowd. 

They made their way onto the roof, and talked. Nothing about what had just happened. Just…life.

–there’s a human in your heart of hearts–

There was a new feeling in the air between them, however. 

Damian liked it.

–hiding true colors made you fall apart–

The party ended, and Jon went home while Damian helped clean up the mess left behind by everyone.

‘‘What about it?’‘ Damian’s voice sounded choked, even to him. Scared, even. He talked fast. ‘‘There’s nothing to talk about. Absolutely nothing.’‘

‘‘It’s been three months, we ought to talk about it sometime.’‘ Jon’s voice was soft, as if trying to lure a frightened animal from their hiding place.

–throwing fire, trying to make it right–

‘‘No, we don’t.’’ Damian continued stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest, purposely avoiding his friend’s eyes which were probably giving him the signature Jon Kent look.

If you thought puppy dog eyes were bad, Jon’s version of them were the absolute worst and could get anyone to do anything.

Hence, why Damian refused to look Jon in the eye. He’d give in.

Jon threw up his hands in frustration, giving a long, annoyed exhale.

–always ends up like this, always gonna lose–

‘‘Fine! How about I talk, and you listen?’‘

Damian didn’t respond.

‘‘What, was I that bad a kisser or something? Is that why you’ve refused to partner up with me on anything unless told to, huh? Do you just not like me? A fluke, a mistake. You could have just told me instead of being a, a, thing about it! If I remember correctly, you kissed me back! That’s gotta mean something. Doesn’t it?” His voice got progressively quieter, more shaky as he went on, as if he were scared to have a answer to his many questions.

It almost hurt to hear him ramble.

‘‘Opposite.’‘

Jon stopped, anger still visible in his eyes, and the way his hands were clenched at his sides. 

Damian groaned, leaning forward and dropping his head into his hands.

‘‘Explain it to me then.’‘ A unspoken plead was in his eyes and that did it for Damian.

‘‘I-I got scared, alright? It’s not just everyday that your best friend for five years kisses you! I didn’t want to, didn’t want to ruin it, okay? I’ve freaking done things but what if me, me being me is the thing that makes that disappear? That’s a heck of a lot worse. So,I distanced, maybe you’d forget all about it.’‘ Damian’s voice rose and lowered throughout his rant, shouting and then dropping into a barely audible whisper that would have gone unheard if not for Jon’s super hearing.

Jon looked at him and gave a bitter laugh. Nothing like the one that made warmth flush to his cheeks and his heart thump that much faster.

‘‘I was the one who kissed you, don’t you think that means anything? I know you. I’m pretty sure I know what I’m doing.’‘

‘‘Don’t you mean, was?’’ Damian said.

Jon looked at him, a determined expression on his face.

‘‘No.’‘

And then he kissed him, again. 

This time was much different. It wasn’t sped up, this was drawn out.

Slow.

The other was pent up feelings being let out, this one was expression.

Damian found himself returning it, before he even realized what he was doing. 

A hand cupped his cheek and Damian gave a content sigh against Jon’s mouth. He tangled his hands in the shaggy mess that was Jon’s hair, gently pulling on the strands.

Hands were on his chest now, moving.

Blunt nails dug into his back, not enough to hurt, but he definitely felt the pressure.

Jon pulled away this time, red plastered on his cheeks, lips slightly swollen.

Their foreheads resting together as they caught their breaths, panting.

‘‘Well-’‘

‘‘That was something.’‘ Jon deadpanned.

‘‘Agreed.’‘ Damian nodded.

They laughed in unison, clutching each other’s shirts while they howled with laughter. 

They calmed, but didn’t move from where they were.

Jon wrapped his finger around a small silver chain that had a tiny cat pendant, he had gifted him it the Christmas before, saying that it had reminded him of Alfred, Damian’s cat that is.

‘‘You kept it.’‘

‘’Why wouldn’t I?’‘

‘‘It seemed that you didn’t like it.’‘

‘‘Oh, well I do. I like it, since it came from you, and I like you.’‘ The words were just slipping out of his mouth by now, and holy- Jon looked so pretty like this, all flushed and out of breath and wow. He really needed to make him look like this more often. ‘’You’re even more pretty up close.’’

Jon couldn’t possibly have gotten more red, but he did, ducking his head.

‘‘Yeah, same goes for me.’‘ He murmured.

‘‘What was that?’‘ Damian teased.

‘‘I like you too. There, happy.’‘ He looked up, meeting Damian’s lovesick gaze.

‘‘Yes.’‘

–dazzle me, dazzle me–


fin.

Domestic Klance Moments, Family Edition

[Part Two]

  • Keith and Lance are arguing after their dinner date about who has to drive home from the restaurant. Lance looks away for a minute. “Babe, look.” Keith says. Lance turns around to see Keith down a bottle of wine that was on the table.
  • While the kids are out, they take the opportunity to play their ultimate playlist on one of their phones and dance like embarrassing grandpas in their living room until one of them starts laughing.
  • They give each other back rubs after a long day.
  • They would make awesome dads (with little to none questionable irresponsibilities lol).
    • Lance: You gave our hyper 5 year old Sprite?!
    • Keith: There’s no caffeine in it!
  • Disneyland with Keith, Lance, and their kids.
    • Can you imagine….how cute they be….the whole family….riding in the spinning teacups.
    • Cheesy disney family photos where the whole family is wearing mickey ears and they’re posing with a mascot.
    • Their kids are wearing costumes of their favorite disney character.
  • The first time they had a baby, they couldn’t stop feeling anxious about leaving them for a minute. They were clingy.
    • Lance: Maybe I should check up on them one more time…
    • Allura: Lance, we just walked out the door.
    • Keith: Oh my god, I forgot to give Lance’s mom (baby)’s favorite toy.
    • Hunk: Keith, we’re only gonna be gone for half an hour.
  • Their babies would calm down easily with their singing. Sometimes they’ll sing in English, sometimes in Spanish, sometimes in Korean.
  • They just…become so soft when they’re around their babies.
    • Lance tickling his baby’s tummy with his nose. 
    • Keith playing peek-a-boo. 
    • That one airplane game where they lie on their backs, hold their baby’s hands, and lift them up with their legs. 
    • Keith passed out with their baby also passed out on his chest, Lance taking photos.
  • When they have little arguments and Keith is being difficult or stubborn, like refusing to go take a shower or something, Lance just picks him up. Just lifts him up, grabs him by the waist, drapes him vertically over his shoulder, like a sack, like a parent taking their child to their time out spot. The first time Lance did this, Keith was so pleasantly impressed with his strength that he forgot he was upset. After many times however, Keith just has a resigned annoyed face.
    • Keith: Stop manhandling me.
    • Lance: Hah! You love it, don’t lie.
    • He does. He loves it a lot.
    • Consider, Keith pinching his butt when he carries him like that again.
  • You know those parents who give their new born baby a new born pet? Yeah, that’s them.
    • Lance, holding a camcorder, crying: Keith, I can’t take this, our baby is snuggling the puppy, I’m really gonna die.
    • Keith: Don’t you dare fucking die, you’re going to capture every second of this cute moment, so help me god.
  • I think these two would be sentimental enough to capture one another doing mundane things, one second of everyday, every year into a little video project, which shows what loving saps they are for the other.
    • Moments like: Keith looking at the sunset out the balcony. Keith sleeping in bed, the light hitting his face. Keith with a cup of coffee in his hands, laughing. Keith reading and petting a cat. Keith walking and carrying shopping bags. Keith putting seat belts on his kids. Keith chasing his kids in the backyard.
    • Moments like: Lance sitting on a surfboard, laughing. Lance building sandcastles with his kids. Lance baking. Lance singing in the shower. Lance walking the dog. Lance wiping his kid’s nose. Lance washing the dishes.
  • Their kids have nightmares sometimes so Lance and Keith let them sleep on their bed, no matter how old they are.
  • On Christmas mornings, their kids would jump on their bed to wake them up. They’re probably bruised.
    • They do the whole leaving milk and cookies for Santa (which Lance and Keith share together).
      • Their kid: Why are there two empty glasses here?
      • Lance: Uhh….Santa was probably really thirsty.
    • Their kids are tearing apart the gift wrapping like animals, but Keith and Lance are drinking coffee together and watching them fondly.
  • Game night is intense in this family, you got the most competitive couple and the kids who were raised by these two.
    • Wii sports resort competitions. They probably hurt the other on accident with a Wii remote once or twice.
  • Lance and Keith always record their kids’ performing recitals.
    • Lance: You’re doing amazing sweetie!
  • They’re actually pretty chill in PTA meetings (or at least, Lance is), but if you criticize their kids, they’re definitely going to be savage lol.
    • Keith: The only shit I smell is the platter that looks like an animal died in it, that you call casserole, Sandra.
What If...


Lance and Keith’s Family life was completely different?


-Lance still had his whole family when he was a child, but when Lance was 11 years old, most of his family was killed

-His dad had died the year before from some disease that America has an easy cure for but Cuba didn’t

-Lance only found out about the cure when he got into the Garrison

-His mother was driving some of his siblings to someplace when they got into a car accident and were immediately killed by the impact

-He and his older brother got put into the foster care system bc none of his cousins had enough money to take care of them

-They were split up in the system

-His English was not great for a while bc he never had the chance to learn it that well but then he got better

-Over time his accent slowly disappeared

-A few years later after his family’s death, he got a letter that said his brother had gone missing

-He acted like everything was fine though

-He never got into a real relationship bc everyone he had ever loved had died on him

-So he just flirted with everyone

-One of his foster parents were extremely homophobic but he only found out after he had said their neighbor (who was a boy) was hot

-He learned to keep his sexuality secret

-He covered the bruises up with concealer

-He lived with them for a year before he got moved again

-When he finally got into the Garrison he was bullied because he was Cuban

-He was constantly compared to Keith

-Keith who was born in America

-Keith who still had a family

-Keith who had real friends

-Keith who was a better pilot

-Keith who was (supposedly) straight

(we all know that Keith is gayer than a gay person on Tumblr talking about gayness while posting rainbows)

-When Keith ran away, his family came to the Garrison and and demanded that everyone search for him until he was found

-It turns out he had been trapped in a cave that he had been exploring for a few days

-When Lance went missing, no one cared

-He stayed out in the desert for a year by himself contemplating life

-But whenever he felt like he was in need of a trip to a mental hospital or the void, something, a warm feeling, would stop him (it was Blue)

-One day Keith, Hunk, and Pidge showed up on a stolen hover bike with an unconscious Shiro in front of his house-hut

-Cue the Voltron shtick happening and Lance still being compared to Keith and still feeling worthless and still flirting with everyone and being afraid of falling in love

-But then falling in love with Keith

-Mandatory klance bonding with all around angsty-ness

…and then everyone starts healing together,  the end

I see that most people are disappointed with Arc V’s ending.

I’m not going to try to tell you that you’re wrong for feeling the way that you do, but I’m going to propose that you look at it from another angle.

Arc V was a story of consequence.

DM, GX, 5Ds and Zexal all had more than one antagonist. Sometimes their goals would overlap, and the actions of the lesser antagonists often inadvertently helped the Big Bad. But for the most part, all of the antags had their own goals. The end result of this was that often, the carnage caused by the lesser antags would often be reset in some way, done away with immediately so that the main characters could take on the next antag without any major baggage. 

Arc V only had two antagonists, Leo and Zarc. One of Leo’s main goals was to stop Zarc’s revival, which he viewed as inevitable. We can infer that if he had any sentience within the boys, Zarc hated Leo in turn for seeking to revive Ray. Their goals were antithetical to each other.

However, Zarc only became a truly destructive factor at the very end, for what, an hour or two in-universe time? On the other hand, Leo’s been at it for at least 10 years (we know that because of Jean Michel). And what did he do during that time?

He turned Academia into a military school churning out child soldiers. Through Jean Michel, he exacerbated the class divide in The City. He utterly destroyed Heartland. He ripped the bracelet girls away from their families, away from the people who loved and cared for them. He put the Yu boys through the wringer, enabling Zarc to influence his fragments towards each other. 

Realistically, none of the above can be easily undone. If ever.

We can assume that Academia is no longer a military school, but we can also assume that the brainwashing the students went through is still in effect; that sort of conditioning takes years to overcome. Not every student there is like Sora, or Asuka, or Serena; not all of them had the capacity to break out of the ‘soldier’ mindset on their own. 

The City was explicitly said to have gotten better after Jean Michel’s demise. But better doesn’t mean perfect, and I’m sure the divide between the classes still exists—at best, security is now more reasonable, and the class gap is now a bit smaller. 

We know that Heartland is still in ruins, and that it’s citizens are still traumatized. That sort of destruction takes generations to amend, but the legacy of the genocide will always exist. That sort of thing just never goes away.

Save for the problems of the City being a bit too easily overcome, for the most part i think that the fandom was fine with the above three. Now, for the more controversial consequences?

Serena, Rin, and Ruri are now a permanent part of Yuzu; Yuri, Yugo and Yuto are now a part of Yuya, forever. They will presumably go on to exist, and we can say that Yuya and Yuzu will both be able to communicate with their counterparts at will. But six of the eight counterparts are now without bodies.

That’s heartbreaking, when you really think about it. 

Ruri and Yuto had an entire group of friends that will never be able to see them again; Shun has lost his hometown, his sister, and his best friend, permanently. 

Yugo and Rin’s dream of rising out of Commons through their own skill, side by side, will never truly be realized. 

Serena spent her entire life confined behind Academia’s walls, and now she will live out her existence confined in Yuzu’s consciousness. And we never truly got to know Yuri, and what his aspirations were outside of ~having fun~; but him never getting a proper redemption arc is something to be mourned in and of itself. 

And that is a consequence of the war, one that cannot be undone. The counterparts merging permanently is a painful reminder that the effects of war sometimes never go away. You can interpret Serena, Ruri, Rin, Yuto, Yugo, and Yuri as casualties in the interdimensional war. And just like in the real world, people don’t just come back from the dead because you love and miss them and wish they could come back. 

I take solace in the fact that Yuya is now stronger for the presence of his counterparts. We can presume that Yuzu is as well. The six other counterparts aren’t gone, they simply… took a different form. Just as you can say the people you love never really leave you. 

Consequence. I’d count this bittersweet ending as the most profound we’ve ever gotten out of a YGO spinoff. 

Acceptance as a Queer Asian American

Coming out as pansexual to my grandmother was an extremely important, and I believe, pivotal moment in my life as a queer, Asian young adult. I believe this for many reasons, but there are two specific ones that over shadow the rest.

The first of those is what it meant to me as a Japanese-American woman to feel safe enough and confidant enough in who I was to come out to my grandmother. For the majority of my queer journey up to this point, I was dead set on the fact that I could never tell my grandmother my sexual orientation. No matter the circumstance, I was sure that my grandmother would not understand or approve. No matter the circumstance, there was a great chance of my losing my relationship with her, my strongest tie to my Japanese heritage and her presence in my life as a third parent could be gone forever. I wasn’t willing to sacrifice the love between us or isolate myself even more than I already felt from the Japanese community.

As much as my refusal to share my identity with my grandmother was based in my fear of her not loving me anymore, a good portion was also based in how I felt my faux-heterosexuality was essentially tied to my right to my Japanese heritage. I already felt like an imposter for being biracial and I felt that my admission to being attracted to more than just men would give the community more reason to exile me, revoke my membership that I’d come to believe I could only have if my grandmother backed me first. After all, my grandmother was the closest resource I had for my culture and language. Everything that made me feel Japanese I could attribute to her: my round face, olive skin, and almond eyes, my short stature and straight frame, my knowledge of Japanese tradition and lore with her songs and stories, my induction to Japanese pop culture with Studio Ghibli, candies and sweets, cartoons by Sanrio, and watching her Japanese shows on the TV, my love of the Japanese food she’d raised me on, the miso shiru and gyoza that marked my childhood, my interest and grasp of the Japanese language that she’d spoke and sang to me all my life. If she disowned me for this, it would feel like the entire Japanese and Asian community behind her would disown me as well.

When I finally decided to come out as pansexual to my grandma I was twenty. Four years after my official acceptance of the label, I’d gained enough confidence in my intersectionality of identities, enough love and pride for them all, that none of them could be affected by her acceptance or disapproval. My forgiveness and acceptance of my white, Scottish family and heritage had allowed me to discard the shame I felt for being mixed race in the Asian community. My growth and education in my Japanese heritage, history, and language had given me confidence in my identity as a Japanese person that no amount of racial slurs, stereotypes, or discrimination I received from any group of people could shake. My growth and knowledge of my self as a sexually and gender queer person and found footing in the LGBTQ+ community had shed the self hatred and fear of rejection from my mind. As painful as losing my grandmother would be, it would not and could not break me as might have before. I was tired of living behind lies. Being able to do something about that without fear of losing myself in my lost relationship was the most liberating thing I’d felt in my history with my Japanese and queer identities.

The second of the two reasons is absolutely the way my grandmother responded to my coming out. She both met my expectations and surprised me in the best of ways. And by that I mean that her reaction was so explicitly something my grandmother would say and do, but my fear of the worst case scenario had clouded my ability to perceive this outcome over the former.

I saw the opportunity to tell her over a conversation we had started about the recent mass shooting of LGBTQ+ people in Orlando, Florida. The devastation she expressed over the massacre, her clear understanding of the hateful prejudice behind the crime, it allowed me to see her clearer than before.

“I don’t understand why people do that!” I remember her shouting. “Why you got to hurt and kill people just because you disagree? Megan, it does not matter who you love, who I love, it doesn’t matter! Just because you believe doesn’t give you right to take another’s life!”

With her words my perceptions changed. My biases that often allowed me to view her as a stubborn child with an adult’s face and experiences had been pushed aside. Instead of the previously held image I’d had, my view of my grandmother had shifted to that of a women who’d experienced much hardship and shut out many new people and ideas because of it, but was still capable of growth and acceptance of new social norms and ways of thinking. This new image, this new perception of my grandma was a kinder, softer one than I’d met previously. It was one that I was safe with, I could feel it in my stomach and my cheeks.

“You know, it’s kind of scary for people like me, people who like more than just the opposite sex, people like those killed in that club, to be alive right now,” I said. “I’m like them, I like more than just boys, I want to date a girl someday, and it scares me that someone might want to kill me for that.”

My grandmother stared at me for a moment, her bony arms encircling her small legs, a high hum coming from her throat. That hum and the noise of her TV that never got turned off were the only sound in the room for several moments.

“You like girls?” She asked, then gestured to the news on the TV. “Like those people?”

I nodded and she made the same high hum.

“Well you know, Megan,” she said, looking down then back up again. I could feel my heart pounding heavily against my chest. “it does not matter who you love what you believe because you are my granddaughter. You are my first granddaughter and I will love you and take care of you always.”

I felt tears pricking my eyes and my heart slow its pace. I’d cried coming out to each of my parents so far, but this was the first time my tears were from joy.

With my mother I’d cried with frustration and anger at her lack of understanding and patronizing questions. Despite her general acceptance and “I’ll always love you” concluding statements, it’d hurt that she’d had so many concerns and objections. With my father I’d cried with rage, the pain of betrayal, the pain of lost love, and a fear for my livelihood then forward. He’d made me feel like a child running from home who truly had no option of turning back. He’d made me feel like his promises to love and care for me all these years had been out right lies.

But with my grandmother, all I’d felt was an overwhelming happiness from her words. Her straightforward acceptance, her attempt to understand me with out being invasive… I hadn’t been aware of how desperately I’d needed her to respond in this way until she had. With it I felt a tremendous weight lifted off my chest and a surge of love and emotion.

Seeing my watering eyes, my grandmother leaned forward and hugged me. I laughed at how her arms could hardly reach around my shoulders and I scooted closer so to make it easier for her. She patted my back with her bony, knobby, hands and kissed my head.

“I don’t care who you love, Megan. I love you first and that’s what’s important.”

I sniffled and laughed, squeezing her waist in my arms.

“Arigatou gozaimasu, obaachan. Aishite,” I said. “Thank you, grandma. I love you.”

Her Three Handsome Boys

Originally posted by negandarylsatisfaction

Characters: Y/n, John, Dean, Sam

Pairing: John x Y/n (FEMALE READER)

Warnings: Fluff, absolute fluff. Suit shopping, happiness, fluffffff!!!

Word Count: 542

Summary: Y/n takes the boys suit shopping.

A/N: Ok, more fluff for this series, cos I just wanna!! Hope u like it!!

Tagged Peeps: @waywardsons-imagines@whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname@sallyp-53@salvatorexwinchester@helvonasche@notnaturalanahi@wayward-mirage@riversong-sam@nerdflash@miss-miep@impala-dreamer@greek-geek481@chelsea072498@deals-with-demons@plaidstiel-wormstache@impalaimagining@deathtonormalcy56@the-latina-trickster@aingealcethlenn​ @squirrels-angels-and-moose @meganwinchester1999@cubs2019-blog@lucifer-in-leather@straightestgay-voice@professsionalsinner@deantheotherkingofkinks@50shadesofyes​ @lucis-unicorn @kumaartz@whispersandwhiskerburn@lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell@colespriverdale​ @daddysxlittlexsunshine @moose-andnotmoose@atc74​ @wonderange

Masterlist

The Family They Deserve Masterlist


Y/n sat in the chair, waiting for him to come out.

She could feel her heart pounding, the thought of seeing him making her happier than she should’ve been.

Then again, of course she’d be giddy.

Who wouldn’t be right now?

“Come on! It doesn’t take this long to get dressed!”

Y/n heard the deep chuckling coming from in the dressing room.

“That why it takes you almost an hour to get ready?”

She rolled her eyes, even if he couldn’t see her.

But he did have a point.

Ever since they’d began actually going out into the town and not just staying cooped up in the cabin, John had been taking her on a lot of dates.

Keep reading

Bassian + romance

Listen, just, shit listen.  We’ve been wrong.  We’ve been so wrong.  It’s understandable, you take one look at Bodhi Rook and then you take another look at Bodhi Rook in a flower crown and you just want to see him romanced so hard and flustered and adorable but just fucking listen. You know who’s the one to actually get really flustered by romance?  Cassian. Fucking.  Andor.

Keep reading

10

Happy 15th anniversary Sofia and Luis!

“His mother scrubbed floors. He couldn’t afford soccer shoes, which once kept him from trying out for an elite team. But the allure of the rags-to-riches storyline often distracts people from the broken-family storyline, which shaped Suarez most of all. His father abandoned them, and Suarez, entering his teen years, started skipping practice, drinking, staying out late. He was lost. His coach often went into Suarez’s home to drag his striker to practice. He played with all of the rage fans see today, but none of the determination, and none of the grace. Luis Suarez was wasting his life.

Then, when he was 15, he met a girl.

Her name was Sofia Balbi. She had blond hair and fair skin. Luis worked as a street sweeper, and during his shift he picked up coins so he could take her out. Her family lived a comfortable life, and they let Luis into their home. He ate regular meals at Sofia’s. She told him his poor grades came from laziness and not stupidity, and she demanded he work harder. In her family, he found the thing he’d never had before, a sense of belonging, of safety.

“They sheltered him,” Cardacio says.

In 2003, Sofia’s family moved to Spain.

Luis sank into a dark place. He had lost his new family, lost his soulmate and his muse. His work habits slipped. Years later, his rise to the Premier League seems inevitable. It wasn’t. The reason Suarez became a great player is that he loved Sofia. She lived in Europe, and he lived in South America, and he could clean streets for the rest of his life and not afford a plane ticket. So his young lovesick mind concocted a completely irrational plan, typical of the teenage boy species: He would dedicate himself to soccer, working hard and endlessly, and he’d get good enough to earn a position on a European team, and the team would fly him across the ocean to his Sofia. Nuts, right?

It worked. In 2006, Suarez found a small first division Dutch team that was willing to give him a chance, and then he became a star, moving up to Ajax, then to Liverpool. He married that blond-haired girl in 2009, and they have two children. Any visitor to his house is likely to open the door to find the usual scene: Luis laughing and happy, kids crawling all over him. He loves his family, and soccer gave it to him, and guarantees no Suarez will ever again pick up coins while cleaning the streets.”

The Wicked Witch

Words: 22k
Genre: Angst, (tiny bit of) Fluff, Drama, Soap Opera!Au
Summary: Your first misfortune is your parents. Your second is your brother. Your third is your husband by the name of Min Yoongi. You will not stop until vengeance has been sought.
Inspired by the idea of combining all Soap Opera/Makjang Kdrama tropes into one story. Based on this drabble.
Warnings: Sham marriages, betrayals, kidnappings, sibling rivalries, deaths, amnesia, infidelity, revenge, etc. Mentions of suicide, car accidents, abuse, etc.

Cr.

[5 Years Ago]

You should’ve never fallen in love with him.

Your first misfortune lies within the family you were born into - a mother with a wealthy background and a father with ambitious political aspirations. It was a picture perfect family; a blissful marriage and two well rounded children, you and your older brother. But everything was merely skin deep. With the plastered smiles and exaggerated grins, as a young child, your mother would pinch you at your side to-

‘stand taller!’
‘look at that disgusting hair, tame it!’
‘ugh, do you not know how to act like a lady?’


The marriage of your parents was a sham, sleeping in separate bedrooms and leaving for days on end to other people. When they spoke to each other, it was cold and distant. If it wasn’t, then it was screaming and arguing. Though you never felt sadness. You never envied the children who had parents brimming with happiness. That was your reality. What could you do to ever change it? You were numb to it all.

Your second misfortune is the ambitious nature of your brother; a trait he had unfortunately inherited from your father. There was a time, so long ago that you can barely remember, a time where you could be considered close to your sibling. It was when you had no one else in the house but him, someone who cared and protected you. But along the way, with the praise of your parents showered upon the boy and criticisms thrown onto you, a gap was created which only grew with the years that came. Soon, he saw the responsibilities in his future and began to utter the same judgements that your mother always whispered into your ear.

‘We’re not children anymore.’
‘You need to grow up.’
‘Learn how to act like a lady.’


Despite being driven away by your one and only true companion, you should’ve stayed. If you had persisted and fought against him, maybe none of this would’ve happened. Perhaps you could’ve saved his life and yours. But the past cannot be changed.

It was two years ago that your brother was arrested for embezzlement.

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Fire.

Thomas Shelby x John Shelby (friend) x reader

Request: Prompt #47. (“Go on, I dare you”) with Tommy, please!😊

Petrol was being poured all over the pub as the eldest shelby brothers and roughly seven other peaky boys stormed into the pub throwing chairs, smashing bottles and firing their guns. You were the daughter of the owner of the pub, your father was in trouble, big trouble. Him and a few other men decided that the Garrison was losing them business. He wouldn’t tell you what the plan was but they marched down there one night and kicked up a fuss. The Shelby boys were away on business and now they were back they were getting revenge, They through a few people out onto the streets, Bet another few people senseless and a few even got bullets through them. You were working the bar but had been thrown behind into the stockroom by a man you considered family, David, as he tried to keep you out of sight. You peared through the crack in the door and saw your father lying surrounded by a pull of blood and then saw David slumped over battered to the point his face was almost unrecognisable. You threw your hand over your mouth as you let out a painfully sharp gasp, trying not to break down because you didn’t want to get caught. You ran to one of the cupboards digging for the gun your Father had placed there in case of emergency. You kept thinking back to him lying lifeless on the floor and your heart started pounding and you were unable to catch your breathe. Back in the front of the pub Tommy had heard a gasp and shushed all the boys to be quiet as he walked slowly and silently to the door leading to the stockroom. He pulled back the door quickly to see you standing there, terrified, holding a gun pointed at Tommy’s head. Your nose was bleeding as you tried to wipe it away not taking your gaze of Tommy. You had always been prone to nosebleeds and the trauma of seeing your dead family had set you off.

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anonymous asked:

Stenbrough's first kiss and them coming out to their families? Please and thank you :)

Okay, sorry this took such a long time to answer; also I’m sorry I basically had to make this more into a one-shot than a headcanon. I just couldn’t find a shorter, quicker way to describe how I see this, but I still hope you like this, anon. 

Ever since the day the Losers had chased away Pennywise, the person Stan respect the most in this world, was his paternal grandmother. Because when he came home bleeding, in pain and traumatized, that very old and very down-to-earth woman was the only person who could see the wounds on his face; while his dad laughed at him when Stan asked for help. He said there was nothing there.
The bandage Stan’s grandma made, on the other hand, was impeccable, and she even had covered the rest of his face with kisses, didn’t ask questions, and ordered Stan’s father to leave him alone. She also told the man never to say anything about taking it off to the boy; until Stan himself felt like it was healed.
Other than with Stan’s father, actually the old lady was very sweet and patient. Always willing to listen and learn, not at all judgmental. She was one of those people who knew about a number of things, but kept quiet, and only spoke a word when she meant for it to be the final one.
Because of that memory, and the gratitude and trust that came with it, for years and years, Stan always knew that the day he decided to tell his family he was gay, that it had to be done first to his grandma. He would open up to her, and she would get it. She would have read about it, he was sure she would know there were more people like him, for centuries.
She would protect him from his father disdain. He and Bill had decided together that there would be no need to think about a way to tell Bill’s parents because once Stan’s grandma knew of the boys’ relationship; she would take care of it. ‘Cause for years now their families were close since Stan’s grandma started paying visits to Bill’s mother; to tell her about God’s plans and heaven, anything that could heal the littlest bit of her heart. Long story short, Grandma would protect them from the people to whom this was none of their business, and properly inform the ones that had to know, their families.

“Bb-ut, still, c-can you do it though? I-i- I mean, d-do you feel rea-ea-dy to tell her?” - Bill had to ask him.

That question brought to Stan’s mind the memory of their very first kiss.
Long ago, around a week after the Blood Oath. Bill had shown up to Stan’s house after school, looking very hurt and self-conscious. Saying he needed to ask Stan a question, in private. For the looks of it, whatever it was, Bill had dwelled on it to exhaustion. Stan was apprehensive but curious as he locked his bedroom’s door after Bill went in. They both stood at opposite ends of the room, Stan by the door and Bill by the window. All of a sudden, Bill went straight to the point.
- D-did you me-mean i-it? - He took a very deep breath, trying hard not to stutter, not here, not now. - Did you mean it when you said you hated me??
Bill was too loud now, but at least he got it right and ended up sounding just as frustrated as he actually felt about the possibility. Stan was kind of taken aback by Bill’s body language. Bill looked so brave whenever he conquered his stammer. That sight made Stan laugh in a dry, short way, he should not smile now, but he also had to.
- I was upset… - He thought about it for a second, glancing at the ground for once, but quickly going back to Bill’s intense stare. Stan allowed himself to take two steps ahead, closer to Bill. - You’re my best friend. - Stan let out a short sigh. “Friend”. Slowly but surely he had begun to dislike using that word more and more, since a few weeks back.
However, the thing is, there was Molly Ringwald. Richie came up with that, usually Stan was not here for Richie’s banter, nevertheless, he had found that one time to be absolute genius. 
- Did you get a chance to talk to Beverly? How is Portland? - Stan blurted out before he could help it; investigating. He begged God to hear that they had not talked at all.
Bill looked grumpy now. He took three steps forward fast. - No-no-no! Don’t ch-chan-ge the-the subject. 
Once again, Bill fought for air, closing his eyes until he was calm; and now he was whispering: - Can you, Stan? Could you ever hate me? W-wo-would you ev-ever – Damn it! - Would you ever not want me around?!
Stan’s heart was screaming in despair at the expression of agony and insecurity on Bill’s face in that moment. Stan’s feet covered the rest of the distance between them, his heart taking charge now. He simply could not stand the sight of those tiny tears showing up at the corners of Bill’s eyes, not even for one more second. 
Stan went ahead and kissed Bill, shortly, but meaningfully and carefully. He then opened his eyes looking for Bill’s and whispered back, his voice shaking:
- This is how much I don’t want you around, Bill.
Yeah…
After that move, honestly, considering all they had been through together during that summer as well… He now, years later, could do anything. He could go and tell his grandmother about his boyfriend; his beautiful, sensitive and irreplaceable boyfriend. And so he would.

8

God.. Protect this Precious Man

When I see spoons, I think that I have to live fully. Even if things get hard and I get exhausted, I think [to myself] that a spoon of rice can become different with a side dish, so I live life to the fullest.. To be honest, as a celebrity, I am often under the spotlight, and some people might think that I was born with a golden spoon. Looking back at my middle school and high school days, I wonder if I had been born with a crap spoon.. My family conditions were not that good. I have been the breadwinner for 13 years since debut. When I was young, I resented my parents a lot, thinking, ‘Why could I not have been born to a richer or happier family?’ But as time passed, when I look back and think about it, it was that kind of situation that made me the strong person I am today. When we read books or biographies of great people, [we see that] none of them are from rich or happy families. It’s always people who encounter hardships that create a new era and become heroes. Because of this, I have hope that I too can become a small hero, and so, to our university students and high school students who are struggling, it would be great if you become small heroes too.”   –  Leeteuk